


42 and 51 for Feysand

by rhysands_highlady



Series: Tumblr Prompts [1]
Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-19
Updated: 2020-01-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:47:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22321303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhysands_highlady/pseuds/rhysands_highlady
Summary: Mostly fluffy, a bit of angst. This is in canon which is a new concept for me. Enjoy :)
Relationships: Feyre Archeron/Rhysand
Series: Tumblr Prompts [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1606627
Comments: 2
Kudos: 22





	42 and 51 for Feysand

**Author's Note:**

> Mostly fluffy, a bit of angst. This is in canon which is a new concept for me. Enjoy :)

Rhys was exhausted. Negotiations with the other High Lords had been going on for months since the war. It was days and days of nonstop bickering. Once they came to an agreement, another 3 issues stemmed off of that decision. They had finally called it a day when they’d looked outside and seen the Summer sun on the horizon.

Feyre had been tending to some matters at the Court of Nightmares with Mor today. He’d heard nothing bad, then again, he hadn’t heard anything good. In fact, Feyre had been silent the entire day, the walls of her mind sealed tightly. Amren had come in her stead though she’d mostly agreed so that she had an excuse to prowl the Adriata palace looking for Varian.

Rhys bid Tarquin farwell and winnowed to the townhouse, finding Feyre on the sofa. Her knees were pulled up to her chest, a mug in her hands resting on said knees. She looked up at him when he appeared, though her usual bright smile was nowhere to be seen.

“I need a hug,” Feyre said. Rhys shrugged off his jacket, laying it on the arm of the sofa before sitting down next to her and gathering her in his arms. He flicked his hand and her mug was stored away in one of those pocket realms she was still so fascinated by.

“I was drinking that,” she grumbled though she nestled her head in the crook of his neck. Rhys chuckled softly, running his fingers through her hair. He didn’t ask what had happened, but he didn’t need to. “When will they start respecting me? What am I supposed to do?”

“Well, I would say crush their minds, but you told me we can’t do that anymore, at least not to our supposed allies.” Rhys looked down at her face and found the hint of smile blooming there. “Though if they insult their High Lady, I guess they could be considered–”

“Rhys.” She tilted up her head to glare at him and he put his hands up in surrender.

“Okay, okay, so we don’t crush their minds.” Her gaze softened and she pressed a kiss to his jawline. “Though Feyre, if you’d like me to punish someone–” Feyre sat up, moving out of Rhys’ arms.

“No. I don’t need you to take care of my problems for me. If I need to punish someone, I can do it myself.” Her gaze was hard again, her mouth a tight line.

“I know that, Feyre darling, but I want to take care of you. I–”

_Tamlin wanted to take care of me._

The thought wasn’t meant for him. Rhys didn’t think she even knew that she’d sent it into his mind. Regardless, Rhys shut his mouth and scanned her face for any signs of doubt, but he found only confusion.

“Rhys, what is it?” His eyes snapped to her blue ones.

“I’m not him, Feyre.” Her brows furrowed, and she tilted her head to the side.

“Who?” As soon as she said it, realisation lit in her eyes. “Oh, Rhys, I know you’re not, I just… sometimes I still feel wary even though I shouldn’t, and today was hard.” She cupped the side of his face with one hand. “I’m sorry, Rhys.” He shook his head.

“Do not be sorry, my love.” Rhys saw Feyre sag in relief before she kissed him gently and leaned back into him.

_I love you, Rhys._

The words were as soft as a whisper. Rhys tilted his head down and kissed the top of hers.

_I love you too, Feyre darling._


End file.
